While wiping off after boning that hot guy down the aisle, I began to feel my senses returning. I again saw guys go in and out from an exit door at the head of the theater. Nothing really registered until dad said to me, “That was just an appetizer. Let’s go have some real fun.”

My father and I had just completed a scene with a guy down the aisle from us at an adult theater that has gone on to become Chicago’s preeminent “sex-tination” in the parlance of travel. I was home from college and dad wanted to introduce me to the place. This became the first of many subsequent visits.

Pops clamored to his feet and quick-paced down the center aisle with me a step or two behind. Every guy we passed seemed to have his dick exposed, regardless of whether the pants were actually down. I’m thinking crazy thoughts, ‘What if some guy took offense to seeing exposed peckers…What if this place got raided...What if some guy got his penis stuck in his zipper?

We sortied through the exit and climbed a dimly lit staircase. At the top, my nostrils were bombarded by the strong smell of bleach. Then there was a glass-encased collage of adult film boxes, most of which featured male organs in various states of arousal. In addition, most showed men on men, including a few that showed otherwise female bodies adorned with phalluses.

This time my thoughts were along the lines of, ‘Wow, a woman with a cock. Could there being anything better?’

Ahead of us lay a long narrow hallway with a series of doors on the right side. Above each was a set of lights. One was red and the other green. Etched in the red bulb casing was the word ‘Occupied’, while the green light displayed the word ‘Open’.

“Hey, we’re in luck,” Dad exclaimed as we proceeded down the hallway. Along the way, we passed three men standing or leaning against the opposing wall, much like what you would find in a busy restroom or loo. At the end of the hall stood yet another guy eye-balling us all the way. I guessed that there had to have been half again as many men on this floor as there were in the theater downstairs. At the end of the row just happened to be a door showing green while the two adjacent booths showed red.

In luck, indeed.

Dad opened the “green” door and before I could close and lock it behind me, he had pulled out a handful of quarters and was vigorously feeding the video machine. Up popped a gay movie, which caught my attention right away. Meanwhile, he had taken a seat in the plastic chair and had started peering through a hole about the size of a fist.

“Dad, what are you doing?” I whispered as I bent down behind him.

“It’s a glory hole, stupid. I can see everything he’s going on next door!”

“What’s going on?” I had an idea that it was of a sexual nature and I was ready for it since I already had popped a boner thanks to the movie.

He drew back from the hole and said, “Go ahead and see for yourself.”

We exchanged places and what I saw was a jaw-dropper. This grey-haired gentleman with pants down was facing the hole with his very hard cock pointing at it and he looked like he was moving towards it.

“Holy shit, dad. Here sit back down.” I recoiled back from the hole just as the head of that cock began to protrude. In a flash, we had traded places, dad’s head had dipped, and his ass had slid off the chair. He was immediately on his knees devouring that cock and I could just as well have been someplace else. There I was witnessing my father fellating a stranger who was ensconced in a booth next door through a hole in the wall he referred to as a glory hole. It was a glorious thing. I know it was glorious for the two participants and I must say it was glorious to watch. I don’t know the derivation of “glory hole” but at that moment, it seemed a propos.

Dad must have felt the heat from my gaze because he pulled away from his ministrations (though he continued to polish the glistening glans with his right hand) and said, “You got a hole over there you know,” and he pointed his left hand in my direction before returning to work.

Dumbfounded I struggled to process his words. I perused the wall and all I saw was a dime-sized hole. I peered through it and could only pick up movement and shadows next door.

Again, my father pulled off that cock. “That’s only a peephole. Down there is what I mean.” (There is a distinction, you know).

He waved his wrist much lower. Then I saw a gaping hole about waist high—approximately the same height above the floor as the one dad was using. It had escaped my eyes because the booth next door was dark.

Haltingly, I stooped down and obliquely peered into it. There sat a guy with jeans down to his knees proudly showing a thick well-shaped penis that was pointing straight at the ceiling. He must’ve sensed that someone was on the other side because he bent over and took a look himself. Our eyeballs could have shaken hands. I pulled back a little bit and boldly grabbed my crotch and squeezed. That only seemed to increase the blood rush into my groin and I felt a wild yearning to haul out my unit and show him what I had.

I tore at my belt and zipper and my pants dropped to my ankles straightaway. Down went my u-trou right after and I thrust my hips forward in the direction of that plywood orifice. Immediately I saw two fingers trace the perimeter of the hole. No one needed to interpret that signal. I took a step toward that hole and directed my hard-on in and through.

When you can neither see your playmate nor touch their flesh in any other way, the focus of your brain is the sensations your cock is sending northward. He grasped my cock in his warm soft palm—that I could ascertain—but had it not for a blast of hot air (probably from his nostrils) I wouldn’t have known that he had taken my shaft into his mouth. However, once he started twirling his tongue I knew I was getting a world-class blowjob.

Behind me, I heard the tell-tale sounds of my father working his magic on his neighbor. Back then, porn movies in arcades were hardly more than old stag films, often shot in 8mm, and with no audio track. Sound carries well through plywood. A quick succession of gasps followed closely by a groan told me dad was about to re-surface. In the meantime, I was venturing dangerously close to the edge of control myself but somehow managed to withdraw from my guy’s mouth before it would have been too late. Moreover, I had designs on that turgid cock next door and wanted at least to cop a feel. Just as I was about to get a taste of it, Dad scrambled over to the hole and said, “Lemme see what’s he’s got.”

By then Pop was just heating up.

He locked on to that cock before I could react so I had to settle for playing with his balls and a brief suck whenever dad would take a breath. The guy must have reveled in the pleasures we visited on him because we quickly heard him mutter, “Oh shit…Oh my God,” and then I dad gulped, and I saw his Adam’s apple bounce several times.

With contrition, Dad rose to his feet and apologized for taking a load that I had wanted only to add that, “We are in a perfect spot and there’ll be lots more cocks to suck.” He pushed me back toward the chair and after emptying his pockets of coin he knelt down at what I had thought was my glory hole.

There were more cocks.

For the next hour, we feasted on cock. What I was beginning to love was the way the light reflecting off the glass over the screen threw enough illumination into the adjacent booth. It was dark enough for more modest guys to hide their junk in the shadows, while the exhibitionists or seekers could show their wares.

I took three loads of sweet and sour spunk and dad must have gotten at least four from the other booth. Not that the traffic was any better over there, it was just that dad had an incredible mouth and he could blow anybody within a couple of minutes. Since glory hole etiquette, dictates that you must give as well as receive I concluded the evening by shooting my wad into the mouth of a young Afro dude who had served me up some heavy meat and a tangy load.

Dad lost his nut on a guy he said was, “Probably eighty years old.” I’ll never forget the sight of him grinding that wall, his ass cheeks squeezing and contracting. Dad swore the blowjob was made more exquisite because the guy had no teeth. We laughed about our liaisons all the way home.

I was staying at mom’s house and she wasn’t at all happy to hear where we had been. “I knew you too had been fooling around,” she said when dad told her of our adventure. “I could taste the sperm on his lips.”

She had kissed me as I came in.

Dad also recounted our dinner beforehand. She then actually asked if we had had dessert. Dad politely demurred. He still had to drive back into town. It was just me and mom…or was it?

Coming soon the conclusion to the story FATHER SON BANQUET: Desert